THE EXILE DIARIES
25th of December
The window brings the sky in
through small squares
all of them ravaged
like old women gathering dandelions.
And the stones ravaged too.
Christ was born in such a day?
27th of December
Four walls
I count them;
my five fingers
I count them.
White bed-sheet, white Tuesday
white horse
muddy snow
I can’t find the number
I can’t decide.
29th of December
I walk through the forest;
the lion sleeps further in
I walk quietly and with a bird
on my shoulder.
Libros Libertad 